"Things look powerful well," was his encouraging remark; "I haven't catched sight of hide or hair of the varmints since that hoss of yours turned summersets off the bridge."
"That is something to be grateful for," was the response of the pioneer. "I feel more hopeful than at any time since leaving the block-house."
"It is a purty good tramp yet afore we reach the settlement; can you all stand it?"
"You know better than to ask me that question," replied the settler with a laugh; "we have been on too many tramps ourselves, but I don't know about the rest."
"Excepting me," was the cheery response of the wife. "I am so glad to have Wharton and Larry safe with me that I know not what fatigue is; I believe I could walk all night without suffering."
"If you give out, make the hoss help."
"No; he has had it harder than any of us. He'll be the first to stop; but, Wharton, what about you?"
"I'll never let my mother beat me walking," he said with a laugh, affectionately kissing her ruddy cheek.
"And as for Larry Murphy," added the young gentleman alluded to, "it'll be a few years from now before he allows any one to beat him in walking towards home, when he knows that a good supper and bed is awaiting him there. I'm riddy, gintlemen, when ye say the word."
The good fortune which attended the members of the party did not desert them. What movements were made by the Shawanoes and what their intentions were could never be known, but not a hostile shot was fired within hearing of the fugitives, who at last reached the settlement in safety, all profoundly grateful to heaven for its mercy.